"The battle for France is ovah, the battle for Koko
is about to begin!"
-Sgt. Major
Thog's pilot log entry:
Xsplat
awoke to the first rays of sunlight coming through the open
window. The storm shutters were thrown back and pegged in place,
and the sunlight was reflecting off of the ocean as it rose,
lighting the whole room with a ruddy glow. Outside he could hear
the tide coming in and the monkeys announcing their
territoriality and availability for mating. It reminded him of
high school. But this was much better. Warm air, a crisp morning
breeze
blowing through the thatch awnings of the house, and the clink of
his wife stirring besid.....
Xsplat rolled over, momentarily disoriented. Teeth. Hair. Sloping
forehead. Leather armor.
Thog!!
Beside him, laying on his side, streched out and wearing a
shit-eating grin, was Thog. In his house! In his BED!! A quick
scan of memory produced no recollections of heavy drug use or
multiple tequila shooters the previous night, and aside from
being very, very awake, Xsplat felt fine. No fever. No
head-injury.
“Thog, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?!!?”
Xsplat shouted. Thog’s grin grew wider; “Delivering a
challenge!”, replied Thog.
Thog paused, fishing around in his armored vest until he’d pulled out a glove, a scrap of cloth, a box of Chinese food, an ear, a letter opener, a lucky rabbits… something, and a piece of parchment. Replacing all but the parchment and the box, Thog handed the parchment to Xsplat.
“Here you go. It’s initialed and dated, if you have any questions contact Gos and he’ll say something important.”
Xsplat stared for a
moment, then exclaimed, “Thog, what the hell are you doing
here?! Haven’t you ever heard of FedEx? Maybe a mailman?
Couldn’t you have done this normally?” He finished,
looking bewildered and annoyed.
Thog looked up from digging around in the Chinese food box,
“Yeah, but I figured you liked your table. Besides, FedEx
won’t come to my house anymore.”
“Why?” Xsplat asked, morbidly curious.
“Dunno. Last time they didn’t have my package. I
complained! He had some other good stuff though, so I guess I was
happy in the end.” (Thog stopped to munch something
he’d fished out of the box.) “But they stopped coming
by, even when I hang out the hat to let them know I have a
pickup.”
"Hat?",
thought Xsplat. He shook himself, tried to focus, and noticed
something missing.
“Thog, what did you do with my wife?”, Xsplat asked,,,
very slowly,,,,, very carefully.
Thog examined the box for a moment, then looked up. “Oh, she went out to grab us breakfast. She’ll be back shortly. Not much of this left.” He paused, then said hopefully “Want me to get you a monkey?”
“NO! Uh… no Thog, thanks though.” Xsplat closed his eyes. “Look, I need to get dressed and get up and get dressed; could you excuse me a moment?” he asked.
“Oh yeah”
Thog said, getting up “I’ll be out on the porch
polishing this damned thing.”, Thog said, holding up his
axe. “Saltwater’s hell on high-carbon
steel….” he said as he wandered out.
Xsplat lay back in bed a moment, closing his eyes again.
“It’s going to be a very long day….” he
muttered.
He winced as he heard a loud crash come from the direction of the
main room .
“Shit…” Thog said.
FM Jump's pilot log entry:
It was a tuff battle of
see-sawing positions..
Yogi=2
FM JUMP=3
First off Yogi comes in and quickly gains advantage at the
merge..I go into a series of weird psychadelic turns that i
remembered from my LSD days. The trip doesnt seem to shake him ,
so I move into plan #14-cc-01. It works!!!!!
I go into an extended Immalman manuever and shoot him fiercely
WHILE IM UPSIDE DOWN , and he passes below me!!! (Hey, if I dont
brag for me ,...who will?) Any-hoo, he tries to stay in the fight
while spewing grey goo all over the atmosphere. He actually
shoots.....hits....and gives me the SAME GREY GOO!!
Now I can see the EPA
patrol cars lining up on the shore! As I try to formulate an
excuse to give them I remember that Yogi is still trying to kill
me. I turn hard , slam on brakes, go to lag, ..pull to pure....
and CCRACK!!!!!!!!...goes yogi's plane into beautiful fire works.
Bye bye ... "there are many brands on the market that taste
just as good" 1-0 FM
Next, we are in the same situation with Yogi in command of the
offensive team, and FM JUMP struggling with defensive 1960's, neo
drug/sex flashbacks. Well, I have a lapse and hit pause because
Yogi's plane was "Jittering" all over the place. I was
smoking and clearly on the defense but I thought he was having
some kind of
connection problem. Anyway, he promptly reminded me that hitting
escape forfeits the fight so I give it to him even though I only
hit pause.
1-1
This time its a mean spaghetti Western and I think I'm Henry
Fonda. The only problem is that Yogi thinks he is Clint Eastwood
and "Dirty Harry's" me quickly and cleanly... I made
his day. .uh oh 2-1 Yogi
Time to get REEEL. I go to drastic measures and take out .....you
know what!!!!
......yep, thats right.....
S P I N A C H !!!!!!!!!!
I quickly down an entire can of the stuff and start to chant
.."I am what i am", over and over again.
It seems to work as i get in and out of position on Yogi, but not
good enough. Time for maneuver # JJ-Walker.
I close my eyes,..click my heels together 3 times and say.."
there is no place like,,, The Control Zone" YES!!!!!!! That
does it!
I float like a butterfly,...
then I sting like a bee, ..
I move into position,,,,
say good bye Y O G EE.
FM = 2, YOGI= 2
Now its break time......I run into the kitchen, grab a quick bowl
of wheaties, I get 8 hours sleep, and run back to the cockpit.
Fortunately Yogi is unaware that I had left and is still heading
for the merge. I do my favorite merge which I call the
"Boris Yeltsin Look-a-like-contest manuever". It puts
me predictably onto Yogi's 6:00 position. He panics at never
having seen such exquisite Grace and profound aggresion combined
into one manuever. As he frantically tries to jot down the
manuever onto his knee-pad, he inadvertently goes into a spin. I
take time to calculate the EXACT mathematical result of his
counter-clockwise motion, squared, divided by a piece of pie, and
multiplied by his airspeed over his angle of descent. It gives me
this number.....
" 83330-414&6-212.9114477209.12.2 and a partridge in a
pear tree."
With that information I knew that yogi was now in deep trouble. I
slid onto 6, took a shot , made 5 hits, ,, he spun again
uncontrollably into the mired depths of Titanic parlor room
patrons. Oh well,...just another day at work for FM JUMP. Back to
my game of " Dribble -on-ya".
3-2 Fm jump movin on up to the East side.
Goshawk's pilot log entry:
The seagulls were
finally quiet, and all activity had ceased for the day. Even
Sgt.Major Burnesley Ulysses MacCulloughy had passed from
conscious awareness (although the enlisted personnel under his
purview believed he NEVER slept).
His demeanor toward officers and contemporaries made him a
challenge for commanders. As such, he was the object of numerous
transfers for temporary duty at a variety of stations.
He had served initially with the famed Gordon Highlanders during
their transition into the plains of India shortly after the '20's
uprising until an ill-timed row with a young officer resulted in
his transfer to a Brittish contingency in a remote Pacific island
off the coast of Australia.
His difficulties with the "wankers" and
"tossers" (as he called the officers) grew in
proportion to the rank and status he achieved as a hard-driving,
no-nonsense enlisted man, under the supervision of an intimidated
weak-minded commanding officer at the island's outpost. His brief
encounter with a native woman on a beach while in a drunken
stupor would ultimately result in the birth of a daughter who he
would only begin to know during the next 5 years at that island.
But she would become familiar with the ravings of this man before
his untimely transfer back to England for an assignment with a
young and growing RAF outfit. This, however, did not occur before
he was able to intimidate his commander into promotion after
promotion.
The "wanker" he was most recently peeved at was the one
called "Goshawk". Damage incurred on a couple Hurricane
fighters the previous day had caused grief and inconvenience to
the Sgt.Major, having to fill in
briefly for an ill fitter. A quick visit to the sick-tent
resulted in the fitter rushing back to the hangar (now more
terrified than ill) but not before the Sgt.Major had to make
contact with the "bloody wanker".
As a result, his day had gone from bad to worse!! He hoped that
the upstart "fly-boy" officer would have a tortured
night's sleep as a result!
For the most part, he had!!! Goshawk's fitfull respite from
flight activities was disturbed by nightmares of streams of
bullets ripping through the paper-thin skin of his fighter
aircraft and igniting the fuel in the tank located directly
behind the fighters seat. He was suddenly awakened repeatedly by
the scene of the cockpit canopy not opening as he tugged at the
handle. Flames would envelope him before
his scream would rouse him awake.
But in the waning hours of morning, the dreams changed. He
finally was able to fly the plane in a manner he wished. The
craft became suddenly responsive to his thought and touch. The
serenity of the heavens were
untouched by the hauntings of combat. He slept deeply, and
savored the peace and beauty of the altitudes. Clouds drifted by
casually, while the pleasant drone of the Rolls-Merlin lulled him
even farther into sleep.
He noticed it initially as only a speck in the distance. A bird?
No, too far away for that. It had to be a plane. It was getting
closer. It was maneuvering for a fight. The nightmare was
returning!
As the fighter closed, the classic lines of a Hurricane came into
view, and the flashes from the gun ports convinced Goshawk that
he must act quickly to avoid the recurrence of the same dream.
Goshawk recognized the pilot at the controls of the Hurricane.
Coyote looked back!! The fight was on.
Round 1:
Both Hurricanes were pushed to their maximum structural limits.
Coyote's ability to loop and roll any plane under his adept
control caused Goshawk much trepidation, and many shot
opportunities did not come to fruition as a result of the jinks
and sideslips performed by the surreal opponent. After a brief
blackout and scream to conscious return, Goshawk found Coyote's
plane directly in the path of the streams of bullets from 8
machineguns. Coyote's plane flamed as the bullets ripped through
the gas tanks of the Hurricane. Goshawk watched the destroyed
Hurricane pummel to the waters below. Goshawk started to breathe
again, aware now that he had not since the fight started.
Round 2:
After watching Coyote's Hurri drop into the icy depths of the
channel, he heard the thud of bullets tearing into the side of
his plane. He glanced around to see Coyote at his 6:00. The
nightmare had returned, in spades!!
Goshawk reached for the canopy release handle to bail out before
the inevitable flaming explosion occurred again in his dreams,
but it would not budge. With a shout of anger, Goshawk pulled on
the handle, jerking the stick in the process. The plane groaned
loudly as the fabric of skin was strained to bursting. As
Goshawk's plane came around to level from the gut-wrenching roll,
Coyote's plane again happened across the gunsight. Fortunately
for Goshawk, his grasp on the stick also resulted in his
inadvertently pulling the trigger. Coyote's plane again flew
directly into the path of the tracer stream, and exploded from
the impact of bullets.
Round 3:
Sweat broke freely upon Goshawk's forehead, and the break of
silence upon his sleep was again robbed by the victory. He did
not spring awake, sitting upright, with a sweat-drenched shirt.
He returned again to the peaceful
reverie of the heavens, the Rolls-Merlin returning to a
comforting drone. The first sign of trouble were flashes of
tracer fire across the windscreen. Coyote was upon him with a
vengeance again!! Others in the quonset hut
were awakened by Goshawk's angry slumbered scream. Several dove
to the floor, expecting the explosion of German bombs to also
break the still of the night.
Coyote was shooting, flashes of machinegun fire were visible from
the 8 gunports on his wings. Goshawk instinctively ducked his
head, although the act in itself would have been fruitless if
Coyote's bullets had found their mark. They passed high, across
the top of the canopy. Goshawk split-s'ed and dropped to the
watertops. After gaining much needed speed and distance from his
pursuer, Goshawk pulled high, and looped back over to see
Coyote's plane approaching. He closed his eyes and screamed while
pulling the trigger. He heard the distant thunder of a muffled
explosion, and opened his eyes to see Coyote's plane plummeting
again toward the water. As the Hurricane splashed in a watery
tower, Goshawk sprang awake.
As he spent time thinking of the substance of the events that had
just passed in front of his vision, he felt curiously gleeful,
yet with restrained terror. He was confused as to whether he had
just experienced every pilot's worst nightmare, or blissful dream
fantasy.
He layed back upon the pillow, hoping to get back to the
bliss,,,,,. After he dropped off to sleep, Koko crawled in beside
him, starved for the affection she never received from the father
she hardly ever knew....
Starwolf's pilotlog entry:
A death
defying contest took place over the chilly waters of the English
Channel. Only the wise words of a fast running bird, Road Runner,
kept the Starwolf from meeting his doom in the frigid, murky
depths!!
Round 1
Tempest V's both.
I get what seems to me a positional advantage quickly after the
merge. I take some potshots at Tuxedo from his rear quarter. I
miss and Tuxedo proceeds to manuever in a way that begins to turn
the table s on me. As I look and try to manuever, Tuxedo slowly
but surely gains angles on me and moves towards my six !!
Tracers fly past my canopy and I hear plinks of cannon fire
against my plane !! I desperately manuever knowing well she wont
resist too many of those 20 MM rounds!! A small stall ensues and
I shake Tux off my tail. Quick recovery and suddenly from head on
Boomoom Booom Boomm !! A fiery stream of bullets detaches my tail
section from my plane !!
Splash in nose first !!
Starwolf 0 Tuxedo 1
Round 2
Tuxedo goes for P-51D's. I clibm in with trepidation knowing the
Mustang's twitchy temperament !! We meet in a fiery volley of
rounds which both miss. This time Tuxedo gets an advantage from
the beginning. I try hard to shake him off and have marginal
success. However as he closes in for shooting position again I
try to squeeze more turn rate out of a already too slow plane and
end up un a nose down spin !! I try hard to recover as I lose
altitude quickly !! I recover the plane and begin to pull out
just above the water !! Just then the plane stalls
and spins in the opposite direction !! I still had the rudder
pedal jammed to the right !!
AHHHHH!!!! Water embraces my dead Mustang !!
Starwolf 0 Tuxedo 2
Round 3
Stress level is HIGH ! I dont want to be swept 3-0 !! I then
remember Road Runners words, "...that Spit 1A is quite a
contender used properly !!.." Spit 1A it is !! As I settle
into my trusted Stipfire I get a warm fuzzy feeling of optimism
!! At merge I go low, gain some hot speed and then pull hard
right across Tuxedo's nose ! Go slightly high and see I have an
altitude advantage . I dive in turning into him and get firmly on
his six !! Six fiery streams of tracers blaze forth from my wings
!! Blam !! His engine is hit and begins to smoke !!
I pull back throttle to compensate for his lowering air speed and
from 100 ft pummel Tuxedo some more with guns!! He goes down in
flames !!!! YES !!!!!!
Starwolf 1 Tuxedo 2
Round 4
I am very happy now that I got in at least one really great guns
kill on Tuxedo. He now goes for the Bf109K-4. Never have flown
this bird !! Again enter cockpit full of concern !! Let's see
what this German bird can do !!
Plane feels really nice !! Have to translate those pesky kph into
mph real fast or will get in trouble soon !! We twist and turn
doing mostly head on passes at very high angles of deflection. I
think I see his six and manage to fire off a few rounds with no
noticeable hits. This time it is Tuxedo's turn to go beyond the
plane's limits and he enters a spin which lands him nicely in the
drink !!
Starwolf 2 Tuxedo 2
Round 5
The pressure !!! The pressure !! The odds are now unexpectedly
even !! I am surprised at my still being here !! With slightly
shaky hands I mount my Spit 1A's for a final showdown !! Feeling
very confident I again go nose low , accelerate and pull hard in
a lead turn against Tuxedo. He goes high and almost aquires my
six !! I almost lose him and begin a slow turn to the left trying
to get angles on him !! I am real slow now.
Suddenly Tuxedo decides to dive !! Yes my chance for victory !!
Just what I needed a bit more airspeed !! Yeeeha !! As Tuxedo
dives I saddle up in to elbow from above him, pull some real good
lead and let'er rip !!! My rounds find Tuxedo's engine !! Again
more gunfire !! I am now so close I hear Tux's engine seize up
and die !!! I pull up hard to try and get more rounds into him
but he is in a steep dive into the water and the score is
mine!!!!
Starwolf 3 Tuxedo 2
Awesome battle which we both enjoyed to the max !! Tuxedo is a
formidable flyer and made me sweat every bit of position in the
sky !! It was very close from where I was sitting !! Could have
gone either way !! I salute you Tuxedo !! But you gonna have to
take a trip to the dry cleaner to get that channel water out !!
Heheheh !! Looking forwards to flying ya again !!
Road Runner, Master I grovel at your feet !! Show me your wise,
deep secrets of ACM to win against all foes !! Thanks a bunch for
the instruction !! Heheh LOL. I gotta try them on you some day
!!!
Well guys love this sim !!
Hope u enjoyed !!
Muad'dib's pilotlog entry:
"Okay,
You can take take a seat now Dib" Duke states to me after
reaming me a new one over my wrinkling the nose of the new P-51
'stang I took for a joyride to try to teach a newbie who was who.
Stupid spins!!!
"SIR, YES SIR!" I reply as I sit gingerly.
"Okay, now I want you to go up with one of our new pilots.
His name is Freaky. He's pretty good and will be able to show you
how to keep your bird out of the spins you seem to love so much.
I want you to tangle it up with him, but *at a safe altitude*!
You have a hard deck of Angels 5. This is NOT for discussion.
Angels 5 . Work on those
spins...we can't have you keep wrecking birds because you're too
used to flying a viper from the future. Don't worry...you'll get
used to it...just takes practice. Now, go have a good time...and
keep the chip off your shoulders...you're new here too...remember
that!"
Duke waves
me away like a diciplined school child as he dismisses me. I
proceed out of his office over the the O'club to have a cold one
and to think about what happened the last time I went up. As I'm
brewing over my brew, it hits me like a sack of bricks! I pick
myself off the floor and brush off peanut shells from my uniform,
and head over to the hangar.
"Chief...YO! Chief!" I call out while looking around
for the maintenance chief.
"Yes sir...how can I help ya?" He replies from behind
me, startling me half to death!
"Chief, is it possible to rig a coffee thermos in my bird?
See, I got this thing for coffee...if I don't have a fresh
infusion of caffine in my system when I go into a fight...I
*usually* lose that fight. Can you do it for me??" I ask
politely.
"Sure...no problem sir..$5.00" He replies.
"$5.00?!?!? What do you mean $5.00?!?!?" I ask
increduously.
"Well, sir it's like this. You're asking me to perform an
illegal modification to one of Uncle Sam's birds. I could get 3
days bread and water out of it. So...$5.00. I want to use the
money to buy some chocolate for my girlfriend here, and my
paychecks all go home to the wife. So...if you want it done, I'll
do it...but it'll cost ya $5.00." he explains patiently.
"Well, who am I to stand in the way of true love. Okay,
Chief...here's the fiver . How soon can you get it done?" I
ask.
"Well, I think I can make one out of some scrap....how about
noon?" He replies.
"Great!!! I'll be by at noon. I've got to go fly against
Freaky this afternoon, per Duke...so I'd love to have it ready by
then." I state plainly.
"No problem sir...it'll be ready." The Chief turns to
go about his business, as he puts the fiver into his front
pocket. I catch a glimps of the wad of bills he wraps the five
around, and I figure that a lot of pilots around here make
arrangements like I just did.
From the hangar, I head on over to the mess hall to get me a
chicken and then proceed over the the base altar. "Oh great
and merciful spin gods (and gun gods if you're listening), I
humbly beseach thee to keep me from spinning my bird this
afternoon against Freaky. I offer you this frozen chicken as
sacrifice.
OOOOmmmmmm....OOOOmmmmmm....."
After my
little anti-spin sacrifice, I head over the the chapel for my
last rites (just in case), and then head over the the hangar.
"Is it ready Chief?" I ask as I look at my watch noting
that it was almost noon.
"Yes sir...I even put a thermos full of coffee in it for ya,
just for your match." The Chief replies.
"Thanks Chief...I'm sure this will be a HUGE help!!" I
crawl into the cockpit and fire up the Merlin engine, and proceed
to taxi out to runway 32. I pour myself a cup of joe, as I taxi.
I stop short of the runway as I comm the tower. "Tower, this
is Muad'dib, request takeoff clearance for runway 32."
"Dib, Tower. You're cleared for takeoff. Vector to Freaky is
120 at 20. Good luck. Out." The tower replies.
I push the throttle to the stops, guiding my bird down the runway
with my rudders and gently pull up on the stick...counter the
torque with some right rudder...I retract gear and flaps and
proceed on a 120. "Freaky, this is Muad'dib. Are You out
here, Over?" I comm.
"Roger, this is Freaky. Let's have some fun! Best of 5. Hard
deck of Angels 5, anything goes. Out." He comms back
briefly.
Round 1 (FW190D)
We merge, and I take a high slice as Freaky takes an immelman. We
jocky around a couple times, and he begins to spin. I follow him
down, and stay on his six as he recovers from the spin. We're WAY
below the hard deck (we're about 150 meters off the drink) and
pulling for position. Our airspeed continues to bleed, and I drop
flaps to prevent the loss of lift I *know* will cause a spin, and
Freaky straightens out. I line up a shot, when his bird starts a
slow spin to the left...right into the drink. No chute was
spotted.
Muad'dib - 1, Freaky - 0
Round 2 (ME109K)
As we merge I try to line up a snot shot, but have no luck as he
ducks below my nose. I follow through on my angles into a slit-s,
but I'm leary as to the amount of elevator I can pull and not put
this bird into a spin (little time logged in a 109). But I manage
to get behind his 3-9, then he me, and vice versa. We finally
work our way down to low altitude, and I drop flaps as we
continue to eat into our slam. I don't think he ever did, as he
went swimming.
Muad'dib - 2, Freaky - 0
Round 3 (ME109K)
Pretty much a similar merge, but Freaky shows some *EXCELLENT*
flying skills by hopping onto my six and staying there. I try all
kinds of BFM to try to loose him, but I'm hesitant on the stick
(afraid to put the 109 into a spin) and he proceeds to chew my
bird into swiss cheese. Engine damaged. Fuel line damaged. Tail
section damaged. I bail out at about 50 meters, but the chute
never opened :(
Muad'dib - 2, Freaky - 1
Round 4 (FW109D)
Okay, back into a bird I'm familiar with. We merge, and I pull a
high slice as Freaky pulls and immelman. He looses a lot of slam
on that manuever and I slip right onto his six. I'm in lag
persuit for a few minutes as we proceed to eat up altitude and
speed. As we get lower and slower, I drop flaps to keep me from
spinning and it gives me enough lift to put nose on, and I
proceed to open up with the guns. He pulls hard to avoid the
slinging lead, which was the wrong thing to do and spins in
again.
Muad'dib - 3, Freaky - 1
This was a GREAT match!! If ever we both fly aircraft we're both
familiar with, it should be VERY interesting. I hate to take a
match with no hard kills, but hey...I gave up a match the same
way...so I guess this makes it all even . Freaky, anytime you
want to fly...give a shout...I'll fly with ya :)
U6's pilotlog entry:
We decided to use diff planes throughout the match although we
both manage to keep with the Spit variants after match 1 since
they are the best turners.
LongSaber got a piece of me in the first match but lost control
trying to follow me into a vertical climb. He spun out into the
heavy clouds below. This made him a sitting duck when he
recovered. The first pass did some kind of engine damage so it
was just a matter of time after that. It took several passes to
damage his 190 engine enough to put it in the drink.
Match 2: Long Saber got serious and did some aggressive angles
tactics. My finessing him into going vertical only got me in more
trouble as I stalled my beast high above him. As I recovered I
felt a few pings on my canopy.
I then managed to damage my flaps so I was desperate to get away.
With nothing to advantage but about 15 MPH speed over the
LongSabers' Spit I had to run for it and go for cheap head on
shots in hopes of making some damage. Fortunately for me my guns
(or lag) was better and I got a lucky shot on his tail. He lost
elevator authority and continued into the sea. No chute seen.
u6-2, LongSaber- 0
Match 3: Longsaber wanted to take the Tempest, but we decided to
go with Spits. This time Long Saber flew tight
and reduced my flying to a low speed fly or die death turn.
Although I had angles I still couldn't do a damm thing about it.
He was about 1000 feet above me at all times and hovering about
110-120 knots. I was at the wavetops with 150-170 knots but I
couldn't pull the nose up without giving away the store.
Realizing
I would be toast soon so I began relaxing my turn to get a few
extra knots of airspeed. When I saw him pass overhead (apparently
he was going for a dive on me), I extended while jinking and
prayed that I had enough
speed to get away. I felt a few hits on my wing then looked
behind me and LongSaber was gone. Im not sure what happened
there.
It was a well flown match and in all the encounters it could have
went either way. My respects to LongSaber's flying ability.
Goshawk's pilotlog entry:
Koko gave
up trying to locate her "paddy" after a two day search,
which resulted in her spending more time in the bunks of the
airmen on base than actually investigating the whereabouts of the
familiar voice from the past. As was typical of her being, there
were "needs" to be fulfilled with the pilots and only
she was able to satisfy the special attention to detail that they
all seemed to crave.
And, with the recent news that Clutter had returned from his
temporary assignment from Mallory's group, there was an even
greater calling for the services that it seemed only she could
fulfill. The boys coming back from the "big groupie"
that she always overheard them wispering about, seemed incredibly
industrious at helping her satisy the nesting urges coursing
through her young body.
Fortunately for the pilots, their special needs also kept Koko
away from the other females on base, and unaware that those
others had also encountered the "fly-boy needs", but
were not inclined to take it upon themselves to try to satisfy
them.
So, on the afternoon when she encountered the snake in the grass,
she was in a somewhat melancholy mood, and not inclined to rip it
to shreds as she might have done back on the island. She was
admiring the puffy white clouds,
and melodious sounds of the Spitfires taking off on the nearby
field. Instead, when the asp crawled across the tall grass on the
outskirts of the field and onto the edge of her blanket she had
spread out, she did not jump and shout "SNEEK SNEEK
SNEEK!" while she bashed it to pieces with a coconut shell.
Instead, she picked up the ceature and flicked it by the tail.
The snake's head popped off at the base, and spattered against
the windscreen of Taipan's Spitfire as it was lifting off.
"Bloody hell!", he shouted as the plane grabbed air and
climbed into the afternoon sky.
The red streaks of slime, blood, and sinew was a foreboding of
the events to come. But, there was a bird of prey to be taken,
and he was already in a mood foul enough to not care that the
bird in question was "Goshawk".
"Son of a bloomin' Sgt.Major!" he shouted as the blood
streaks dried in the sunlight. "I'll never see that
bloody,,,"
His plane erupted in a ball of fire as Goshawk's cannon rounds
ripped through the cockpit and engine compartment.
Taipan parachuted from the damaged Spitfire XIV, and was caught
in a hearty "westerly" breeze which fortuitously dumped
him chute and all back onto the field.
His second plane, a Spitfire 1A suffered the same fate as the
first, with Taipan again "taking wing" and subjecting
himself to the drift of the airways.
Taipans frustration was mounting fast. His typical stouthearted
and surefisted handling of the Spitfire 1A was cast to the wind,
when his plane was pummelled a third time by Goshawk's Spit.IX.
As Taipan's chute drifted to the ground, he tucked his knees and
rolled, as prescribed by the lads in "jump school"
years earlier. His second roll ended him onto Koko's blanket, and
into the arms of the young island princess.
Koko instantly recognized his needs, and began tending to them in
her typical fashion. Without waiting for Taipan to remove the
chute harness and Mae West, she began shredding the uniform from
his body.
Taipan had lost a match, but won a mate!
[salute] to the snake!!